


Unlikely Heroes

by Nebulad



Series: Vir Sumeil [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Support, Warden!Tamlen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7022650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only other person that would come near Morrigan’s dimly lit tent was Oghren. He’d shuffled inside late at night, after his watch was over and Cousland’s had begun. Noll had expected the worst— he’d been a warrior in the Deep Roads, and no doubt he was here to try and level with her, try to convince her that the boy who was a reflection of herself, the one whose face she knew as well as her own, was better off dying.</p><p>He’d sat next to her beside the sleeping patient, offering her a swig from his flask. It burned going down. “Know a thing or two about Blighted family,” he’d said gruffly, slicing through the silence as if he wielded a greataxe. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna be alone while you wait to see if the witch can magic your friend back up again.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unlikely Heroes

Tamlen looked like death, to the point where Noll had to aggressively remind herself that he was alive. The movement of his chest was not her imagination, and despite his sallow skin and sunken eyes he was still there. The bruising was fading from his skin— a result of the ashes that she’d stolen from Alistair’s pack at Morrigan’s insistence— but his hair wasn’t growing back and she still couldn’t make out the lines of his _vallaslin._

“Hovering will improve neither of your conditions,” Morrigan said, pushing aside the tent flap and stepping outside with a mortar and pestle balanced carefully in her hands. Her fingers were already stained with elfroot and she smelled like freshly turned dirt. It was comforting. Noll was grateful— and indebted to a _shem._ Tamlen would love that when he woke.

She took his limp hand in hers and kissed it. Some of the others didn’t… understand why she was like this. Alistair and Zevran were of the very firm belief that it would have been kinder to kill him as he’d begged her to, but what did they know? The men in her life had always leapt before looking, which led Tamlen to his current predicament and had led her father to his death.

Ignoring the naysayers, Morrigan had offered to try and fix Tamlen well enough to undergo the Joining— a feat made possible by the blood in the amulets of Cousland, Alistair, Tabris, and herself— warning that she was no healer, but she would put forth her best effort. _The challenge is in beating back the Blight,_ she’d said matter of factly, with Tamlen’s unconscious body on the bedroll before her. _I would relish the opportunity to prove that I could, and in the process it would serve you and your friend._

The only other person that would come near Morrigan’s dimly lit tent was Oghren. He’d shuffled inside late at night, after his watch was over and Cousland’s had begun. Noll had expected the worst— he’d been a warrior in the Deep Roads, and no doubt he was here to try and level with her, try to convince her that the boy who was a reflection of herself, the one whose face she knew as well as her own, was better off dying.

He’d sat next to her beside the sleeping patient, offering her a swig from his flask. It burned going down but while the Dalish certainly couldn’t match a _durgen’len_ in alcohol, she didn’t embarrass herself. “Know a thing or two about Blighted family,” he’d said gruffly, slicing through the silence as if he wielded a greataxe. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna be alone while you wait to see if the witch can magic your friend back up again.”

“ _Ma serannas,”_ she mumbled, her voice unable to make the same clean cut that his had.

He grunted, shifting as if he were trying to unload the burden of the atmosphere. “Speak sense,” he ordered in a rasping bark that she associated more closely with him. She smiled, Tamlen’s hand still twined with hers.

“Thank-you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm sad about Oghren a lot and my main Warden Gahruil isn't fond of him for probably obvious reasons. Noll adores him though. [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) and you can peruse to your heart's desire and say nice things to me. It's that simple.


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